My one and only chair has been damaged for a long time now. I don't know what powerful force an entity has done to give it a disgusting wreck. FYI, I have this obsessive-compulsive attitude that saved me a lot of money because my things have survived with my care despite age. I hate it when people use my things without a hint of care.
And so I mourn for my chair, for one.
The unrepentant wrecker promised me eons ago to replace it but until now nothing, as in nada, none has been fulfilled. Just like a politician, the wrecker promised and promised not just once, only to be frustrated time and again with that promise. Just like my chair, broken.
I literally suffered, along with my chair, the times when I used it for some work. As if reminding me everyday the transgressions of my grandparents, the chair pinched my thigh every now and then. Waiting. Wishing for replacement.
Sometimes, getting a fault published can do miracles.
I hope it works this time.
No comments:
Post a Comment